英语小说：Where The Heart Leads（四）

英语小说：Where The Heart Leads（四）

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WHERE THE HEART LEADS
by Kim Vogel Sawyer (fiction)

Published by Bethany House Publishers
ISBN: 9780764202636
WHERE (Part 4 of 5)
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Harry clapped the man's shoulder. "Thank you, Wilfred. I appreciate
that."

Daphne gaped at Harry. Would he truly pass her off to some skinny,
pock-faced stranger?

Harry put his hand on Daphne's spine. "Daphne, you'll be in safe
company with Wilfred Taylor." He pressed her forward, ignoring her
angry glare. "I'll check in on you when I return."

Wilfred licked his lips and stuck out his bony elbow in invitation.
"Come along, Miss Severt."

Daphne had no choice but to place her hand in the curve of his arm.
It felt like kindling compared to Thomas's broad limbs. But as she
and Wilfred made their departure, she observed Thomas's clenched jaw
and narrowed gaze, and satisfaction welled upward. Perhaps she
possessed the victory after all.


CHAPTER TWO
Hill*****oro, Kansas
Early June, 1904

The closer the rattling passenger car carried Thomas to Hill*****oro,
the more he shifted on the wooden seat. Sweat drenched his back,
making him want to remove his suit coat and roll up the sleeves of
his linen shirt. But remembering Nadine's admonition when he'd
boarded in Boston--"You're a college graduate now, Thomas. You must
look the part"--he felt certain she would ask his stepmother how
he'd been dressed when he arrived in Hill*****oro. He'd tangled with
Nadine before; he had no desire to do it again.

The fabric of the custom-tailored black worsted suit bore wrinkles
and sweat stains, and he wondered how he could look more like a
college graduate in bedraggled attire than in a pair of trousers and
a chambray shirt from his bag. But respect for Nadine kept him in
the suit, regardless of how much he wanted to change.

The suit wasn't the only thing making him uncomfortable. Scattered
emotions--eagerness to see his family, regret at not being able to
say a proper farewell to Daphne, and uncertainty about what to do
with the degree he'd spent three years earning--combined to make
fresh perspiration moisten his forehead. "Ach, how much longer to
Hill*****oro?"

He snatched off his hat and dragged a wilted handkerchief over his
face. The hot wind streaming through the open window peppered him
with grit and coal dust. Instead of replacing his hat, he dropped it
onto the seat beside him and looked out at the passing countryside.

Kansas, his boyhood home. Pasture land of gently rolling hills
dotted with yucca bearing fat buds that would soon blossom.
Occasional splashes of color from wildflowers. Wheat fields, the
golden tips waving in the sun. Stands of wind-pruned trees, their
branches full and green. It was all so familiar...and yet also
foreign after his long time away.

Scowling, he turned from the window. He bent forward, rested his
elbows on his widespread knees, and lowered his head. "Dia Gott enn
de Himmel" just like his father and his father's father before him,
he lapsed into German when he prayed--"I do not know where I belong
now. Pa wants me home in Kansas, and a part of me wants that, too,
but I have been gone for so long...Where am I meant to call
'home?' Help me know, Lord."

For long moments he remained in his bent-low position, his head
bobbing with the motion of the train, waiting for an answer. But
when the screeching of the brakes signaled the train's approach to
Hill*****oro, he'd received no more answers than the last time he'd
prayed. Maybe when he was home, in his familiar bedroom with the
sounds of the prairie soothing his troubled soul, things would
become clear.

Putting one arm forward, he braced himself on the back of the seat
in front of him and gritted his teeth against the vibration coming
through the floorboards. He held his breath until the rapid,
screeching deceleration turned into a slow "chug-chug-chug," and
then let it out in one big "whew" of relief that accompanied the
train's release of steam. He glanced out the window. A small cluster
of people waited on the boardwalk for the few passengers who would
disembark, and his heart leaped when he recognized his father's
shaggy, wheat-colored hair--his head always inches above anyone else
in a crowd.

Pa! To his surprise, tears pooled in Thomas's eyes. He plopped his
hat over his own wheat-colored mop, grabbed up his bag, and raced to
the door at the end of the car. He didn't bother with the metal
stairs, but took a single leap that brought him flat-footed on
hard-packed earth. The shock of the landing gave him momentary
pause, but then he stumbled forward on tingling feet. "Pa! Pa! And
Summer!"

Although Summer had been his stepmother for nine years--nearly half
of his life--he still hesitated at calling her Ma. Back when she'd
married Pa, he hadn't wanted to be a replacement for her deceased
sons, Vincent and Tod. But now, as he called her given name, he
experienced a pang of regret.

His family separated from the crowd and rushed forward, with his
sisters outpacing Pa and Summer. The littlest one, three-year-old
Lena, tripped and fell face first in the dirt and began to wail. Pa
paused to scoop her into his arms, and stairsteps Abby and Gussieso
similar in size and appearance they could pass for twins--barreled
into Thomas. He laughed at their enthusiastic welcome. They'd only
been two and one years of age when he'd first left for high school
and college in the East, and his visits home had been few and brief,
yet each time he came home, they swarmed him like bees on a
honeysuckle vine.

He lifted them off the ground simultaneously, one in each arm, and
swung in a circle that made their matching yellow braids stick
straight out. They clung to his shoulders and squealed, their
childish voices loud in his ears. He set them down and reached for
Summer. Wrapping his arms around her slender frame, he was
transported back to the first time he'd dared hug her. He'd had to
lift his arms to her then. This time she reached up to capture his
face with her hands and give him a bold kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, Thomas, it's so good to have you home again."

The word "home" reverberated right through Thomas's heart. He
swallowed hard, his arms tightening around her back. "It's good to
be here."

When Thomas released Summer, Pa stepped forward with little Lena
balanced on his arm. Plump tears quivered on the child's thick
eyelashes, and she sucked the two middle fingers of her left hand.
Thomas held out his arms to Lena, but she buried her face against
Pa's neck. Her action made it impossible for him to give either her
or his father a hug.

Thomas cupped the back of his sister's head of dark, tangled curls
with one hand and clamped the other over his father's shoulder. A
huge lump filled his throat. All of his life, he'd wanted to please
this man. How would Pa feel if Thomas left Kansas for good? Forcing
his voice past the lump of emotion, he managed a one-word
salutation. "Pa."

Pa nodded, seeming to understand the great meaning behind the simple
greeting. He responded in kind: "Son." For long moments they stood
silently under the sun, with Summer, Abby, and Gussie looking on,
until suddenly Lena released her father's neck and flung herself at
Thomas.

"Oomph!" Thomas took a step backward when her weight hit him. The
child's moist fingers dug into the back of his neck. He crossed his
arms over her narrow back, holding her in place. Lena pressed her
face against his collar. He heard her whisper, "You my bruvver,
Thomaff."